Lucky Charms
by Darth Bubbles 16985214
Summary: Harry Potter has won the war against Voldemort, but not undamaged. He has recently discovered his heritage, and finds out the true nature of the Potter Bloodline as the luckiest family in the world. Gen fic, Insane!Harry Unhinged!Harry Awesome!Harry
1. Chapter 1

_So, my creative juices are not flowing the way they should be. Omniscience is an awesome concept that ill have to finish someday, Blood Runes still needs massive editing, and Chlorine is an embarressing pile of crap. But now, my creative juices have demanded that I start another concept/premise/plot that I need to write before I forget it. Thus, Lucky Charms. Enjoy._

 _P.S. Much of the style of this charactor/writing is inspired by the best PJO story on the site, Brothers by Rage. By Theleafylord. Go check it out._

 **Chapter 1-JACKPOT!**

* * *

Admittedly, Harry was feeling pretty fucking awesome right now. The War was over. Voldemort was dead. And Harry was still alive.

Now admittedly admittedly, there were some downers to the whole situation. After the Dark Wanker himself had been offed, Ron and Hermione had abandoned him. That wasn't what he was annoyed about. After all, the War had turned him into a morally skewed, happy-go-lucky, trigger-happy lunatic who effectively transformed into an emotionally stunted sociopath on Luna's level of nuts. With that kind of transformation, he could accept that sort of response. No, what really pissed of Harry, was the insinuation that they had never been friends, and were simply the moral support conveniently provided by Dumbledore, the white-bearded fucker.

But, all raging and angst must come to an end, and so, after some well-deserved shunning, Harry got over it and forgave them. As far as he knew though, they were still inside the inverted Fidelius Prison Ward, which was incidentally a hellish ward to erect. Meh.

And now he was in Gringotts...

"Wait, so you ugly little fuckers are telling me that you aided and abetting that evil old prune in keeping my money away from me!? Dude, not even cool." Harry said in a cheery manner.

The Goblin Tribunal knashed their teeth as they inwardly groaned at the stupidity of humans. In a rather foolish act, the Ministry granted a retroactive diplomatic immunity to Harry, for services in the War. And all involved whole-heartedly agreed that the Imperious Curse was not involved, and that the Quibbler was still a breeding ground for conspiracy theories. Everyone pointedly ignored the objective truths of the matter. Eh, politics.

"The only reason that I won't just kill you all, is that you are going to be disowning the Sword of Gryffindor from goblin lore, and then permanently giving it to me. And because you will be sponsoring my travel to the States." Harry said, still sounding overly pleased about the situation.

The fact that such an offer had not actually been extended, was not unnoticed. And under any normal circumstances, the Goblins would have killed Harry for such an insult. But the problem was, they couldn't kill him, and he had just learned that fact.

You see, Harry, after the war, had finally mustered the courage to walk into Gringotts and check up on his account. The Goblins were cold, but not openly hostile, thank God. And then on a whim, Harry asked if there were any documents left behind by his parents. Hell yeah.

It was a book, a secret book written by a Potter, which detailed the history of the Potter line. It was telling to say the least. Basically, the forerunner of the Potters, was ironically an Ancient Greek potter. During his life, he inadvertently saved the life of Tyche, better known today as Lady Luck.

The thankful goddess had blessed him in thanks, but was so taken by him that they had a child together. The forerunner, was able to predict greatness in the future of his line, and decreed that as long as his direct descendants still live, that they retain his name in whatever language they speak. He was a tad bit egotistical.

However, then the Potter Luck, took hold. The child of the Forerunner, was both a demigod descended from Luck, but was also blessed again via the blessing of the Potter Bloodline. And then, the Blessing began to gain sentience. The Blessing sought to protect itself, and as it was bound to the Potter Bloodline, it tried to protect it as best as possible. Thus, the demigod eventually married one of the very few, who were blessed by Hecate.

Over the years, the Potter Line continued growing more powerful, like a magnet. No other gods married directly into the Potter Bloodline again, but demigods, especially those of Luck and Fortune, were brought into the family. Given that Squibs were a statistical improbability, they never cropped up in the family, and the Potter Magic grew even stronger with the additions of divine blood. Some outliers were brought into the family, such as Nemesis, Astraea, and Caerus, being the (minor) dieties of Balance, Justice, and Luck respectively. There was also a fair amount of godly incest involving the Potters and the descendants of Tyche and Fortuna. Eh, Greek Gods.

The cumulative effect of this, was that the Potters were all very skilled, deadly, and rather lucky wizards. However, all the power involved in the Bloodline was too much for any one mortal to handle and thus the effects were very passive. Until James Potter met one Lily Evans, the very distant legacy of Hygeia and the first in her family to be blessed by Hecate. Lily Evans was a phenomenally powerful and capable witch. And so, for anyone who could have possibly known what had happened one Halloween Night, they would not be surprised to learn that Lily had invented a ritual to trick the Godly Power into running through the magical channels and unlock itself with the advancement of Harry's core.

Thus, the moment of Lily's Death, the ritual finished and charged young Harry with potential Luck Energy. Which was then released and expended by blocking the Killing Curse and breaking most known assumptions about that curse.

Learning this, explained so much. Have you ever seen a snake strike? If you have you would understand that except for a rather ridiculous amount of luck, Harry would not have survived the Basilisk. Same goes for Third Year. He underwent a clear violation of the Space-Time continuum, but came to the perfect conclusions about what happened and performed the exact action that meant that he averted a major Temporal Paradox and some rather unwelcome attention from several Time Dieties.

Regardless, the Goblins simply couldn't kill him. Not only was Harry now so lucky, that he practically had Felix Felicis running through his veins(Potion invented by a Potter, in honour of the most recent godly ancestor, Felicitas, another luck diety), but the biggest problem was when the Bloodline ends, the Blessing must dissolve and all that Luck Energy must go somewhere. In this case, giving bad luck to whoever kills him.

Killing any Potter was the equivalent of killing a black cat, shattering a mirror, and giving a drunk teenager all your money in Vegas on Friday the 13th. Killing the very last Potter, multiplied that effect by 13. To damn the Goblins further, they handled a large amount of the betting in the Wizarding World, as well as dealing in investments and Cursebreaking in Egypt. Having bad luck in any of those, was a bad thing. Not to mention that the Peverell family which married into the Potters was directly descended from Hades, who controlled the riches of everything underground, including that which the Goblins mined.

Another huge factor, was the fact that the Potter Line included the blood of Nemesis and Astraea, and a Goblin had broken an oath with Harry Potter. This injustice also opened the doorway to divine retribution should Harry desire. As such, the culprit (Griphook) was executed, and Harry was able to demand several boons from the Goblin Nation in repayment. Given that the oath was life or death, the boons could be pretty damned hefty. Such as a Portkey and the Sword of Godric Gryffindor.

"Your petition has been heard. In return for the dissolution of the penalties of the broken oath, we will grant these requests. The goblins directly involved in the scheme with Albus Dumbledore will be executed, and the contents of your vaults will be made available to you." Said the Goblin Elder.

The wrinkly old Goblin got up, and brought out a Galleon. He tapped it, and it flashed a brilliant blue, then faded back to gold.

"A Portkey of Leprechaun Gold. We presume that you will be able to summon the Sword yourself." It said. It then grinned a nastily, and threw the Galleon at Harry. Taken by surprise, Harry jumped out of the way with his reflexes that were sharpened in the war.

"What the bloody hell are you doing!" Harry yelled.

Unfortunately, due to his ire, Harry never saw the Portkey curve around him as if in an orbit, and strike him in the back. A sharp hooking sensation caught Harry, and the last thing he saw was the ugly little fuckers grinning triumphantly. Assholes.

* * *

 **AN-God, that intro was painful to write. Ugh. Real story comes next. Instead of a god perspective like I normally do, i am gunna try for first person. Also, if anyone rewrites this successfully in 2000 words while cpvering all the concepts successfully, I will write a 2000 words oneshot about anything the person wants. Best entry wins. In other news, we finally got the first fanfiction about Blood Runes. My cult shall grow. Muahaha. Anyway. Review, review REVIEW DAMNIT! And PM me for questions, or requests, or if you want to write a Blood Runes spinoff series, or even an Omniscience spinoff. Yeah.**

 **-Lucifer**


	2. Chapter 2

_Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it._

 _-Hunter S. Thompson_

 **Chapter 2-What Are The Odds**

* * *

Once again, I land in a boneless heap. Fucking Portkeys. I get up and dust myself off, and look around. The Portkey seems to have taken me to a small alleyway. I grin and summon the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, through my need, bravery, and general desire to kill the fuck out of some monsters, which apparently roam around, unbeknownst to myself.

The air shimmered, and the hilt appeared, bringing with it three and a half feet of Goblin Steel embued with Basilisk venom. Contrary to popular belief, the Sword of Gryffindor is an elegant falchion, designed to be held one-handed with only one bladed side. It was the perfect tool for a wizard, as one could slash with one hand, and cast with the other.

I grab the ruby encrusted hilt, and my eyes flicker over the engraved _Godric Gryffindor_ in the blade. Hell yeah.

I adjust my wand holster so that it is tight, and gaze at the Elder Wand in fascination. Before, I had read some ancient lore about it, which stated that the wand drew off the divine, the spark which grants us our humanity. At the time, I hadn't understood, but now I think I do. The Wand of Destiny was created by Death for the three brothers Peverell. However, a far more likely interpretation, is that the Peverells were sons of Hades, and came to seek out confirmation of their heritage. They were able to use magic to cross the River Styx, and their father appeared to congratulate them. He likely offered three gifts, sworn on the River Styx to deliver. And so on and so forth.

But the wand not only channels magic, but also converts the spark of humanity into magic. It would transform Godly Power into magic, and since the Blessing of Hecate and the Fire of Prometheus are Godly in origin, it would add that power to the innate magic of the user.

I draw the wand, and then begin channeling the Godly Powers of the House Potter into it. Since I am not actually a half-blood, I cannot really see through the mist. I begin dispelling it from my eyes, and then cloak the Deathly Hallows as well as the Sword in the Mist. I then put them all away, and jauntily walk out of the alleyway.

Not wanting to seem like a moron, I construct a cover story and approach a random person.

"Hello sir, I am afraid that I got incredibly drunk last night. What city am I in?" I ask, a massive grin on my face.

The guy looked at me as if I were insane, and muttered "New York", before hurrying off away from me. Wow. New Yorkers are friendly.

I shrug to myself, and begin walking down the street. I reach out to my powers, and I begin feeling twinges. I start walking around, trying to find the twinges. A second later, I feel a bad twinge, as I am beginning to classify them as. I stand at the spot where it occured, and after waiting for something to happen, I witnessed a taxi blow a tire. Now dont het me wrong, that was unlucky by itself, but I could quite literally see a nail bounce down from a construction site, and roll into the street. That was spooky.

Then, I felt an incredibly loud disturbance in the "Force" so to speak. I wrap the Cloak of True Invisibility around me, and apparate to where it is. I reappear inside an apartment, with a kid on the computer looking up poisonous snakes. The kid seems to almost have a golden shimmer to him, a glinting that I can only see out of the corner of my eyes. Then, I hear a rustling. I whip around with the Elder Wand out, and witness a couple small snakes crawling under the door.

I hear the kid scream, and the snakes seem to, unlike the kid, have a tar black aura. Saving people thing, activating in three, two, one...

I whip off the Cloak, and yell "NOBODY MOVE!", pointing the Elder Wand at the kid and the Sword of Gryffindor at the snakes. The kid obviously confused, puts his hands up as a knee-jerk response.

 _§Fuck off. This Sword is embued with the Venom of the Basilisk that I slew. Not the mythological Basilisk, but the thousand year old King of Serpants that I stabbed in the face. You really wanna mess with me?§_ I hissed in Parseltongue at them.

If snakes could turn white, these would have. Hissing extensive swear words, they slithered out under the door panicked. The kid still looked faint.

"So, kid, it seems that you may be eligible to join the elite ranks of the semi-godly. What do you think?" I said cheerily. I was trying to comfort him. Note TRYING!

He wasn't comforted. "WHAT THE #$% WAS THAT ABOUT! AND WHO THE #$% ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU APPEAR LIKE THAT!?"

"Bond. James Bond. Now, it seems like you may have a parent of rather Godly origin. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing, remains to be seen. But the best thing, is learning that I can summon monsters by Googling them. Now I can finally catch em all." I said. Hey, pop culture references might calm him down.

Yeah, not so much. He fainted. Eh, saving people thing dictates that I kidnap him and bring him to where the other half-bloods live. Hey, I don't want this kid to get himself killed while I am gone, and I have the excuse of a wartime morality anyway.

I picked him up, and discretely put a Featherweight Charm on him. That done, I tossed off a couple Point-Me Spells, and then Apparated out. Just in time to miss the frantic satyr that burst in, and began having a meltdown. Meh.

I reappeared with the kid in a warehouse more downtown. Maybe a couple minutes walk from where the Point-Me leads.

"Fresh meat..." A rumbling voice said.

Woah, dragons can talk? I kinda wanna put off killing it so I can chat. I shrugged Mr. John "Halfblood Moron" Doe off my shoulder, and went over to the corner where there was a shine of scales.

"Hey, so dragons can talk? How about you tell me what I want to know, and I will let you live." I said, slowly forming a delicious idea in my mind.

"Very well, dinner conversation. I suppose I can eat an appetizer first, then eat you." It said. A snapping sound could be heard, and a previously unnoticed deer was slowly dragged into the corner. Several horrifying sounds were heard, and blood started flying to spatter the walls.

"Cool. Lets play a game. I ask you questions, and you ask me questions. We should preferably answer truthfully." I said.

"Very well. Give me a reason that I should fear you?" The gravelly voice asked.

"I am the last of the Potters. Now where is the camp for Halfbloods?"

"Half-Blood Hill, Delphi Strawberry Farms. It is a close walk. What is your name?"

"Bond. James Bond. And I just got bored." I said, grinning. I swung the Sword of Godric Gryffindor right as the dragon leaped for me, fast as a snake. Sensing the poison of the blade, the dragon dodged it at the last second, and whipped around, only to receive a nonverbal Killing Curse to the face. Normally, Killing Curses are deflected by Dragon Scales. Normally, Killing Curses cast with the Elder Wand are considered overkill. And normally, Dragons don't explode into sulferous yellow powder. But this was the last Lord Potter, the Ones Descended of Luck. Potters don't do normal.

I dragged the heavy nameless demigod onto my shoulder, and Apparated again. This time, I appeared in front of a sign for a strawberry farm. I shrugged and began walking towards the suspicious shimmering dome that resembled a Notice-Me-Not ward crossed with a Muggle-Repelling ward, and created by the Mist. I crossed the boundary with a slight tingle, and beheld Camp Half Blood.

Kids in armor, running around, exercising and training. I liked it. Lava wall. That is just gunna be epic.

I flagged down a random kid, and he came jogging over.

"Aaron, Son of Apollo, at your service." He said, saluting me. Oh yeah, I was an adult...

"Good. I found little Johnny Oblivious using his computer to look up poisonous snakes, and had to save his sorry self from them" I said, completely ignoring the fact that I knew about as much as the kid. "I told the kid about his parents, and he kinda fainted. You may wanna check him over for injuries, I had to off a dragon on my way here. Now, take me to your leader."

Aaron smirked and bent down to pick up the kid. I canceled the Feather-Weight Charm, and let Aaron take him to the Med Bay. Aaron walked off and pointed towards a big ugly red house absentmindedly.

I fixed a winning smile on my face, and began walking towards it. I let my Sword fade out and put away my Deathly patrons.

I entered the building, and observed a rather strange sight. A centaur that actually looked friendly, and a slightly overweight man, with an eyewatering orange Hawaiian shirt. They appeared to be in the middle of playing a card game.

"Well hello there. We have been expecting you." The centaur said.

"Neat trick. I am Bond. James Bond. But I also go by Lucky Charms." I said, grinning.

The chubby guy narrowed his eyes at me, and promptly took a drink of soda.

"I am Chiron, the immortal trainer of heros. May I presume that you already know of your godly heritage? You appear to be around 20, but with a British accent. We do not have a seperate camp in Europe that I am aware of, and without training, you should have been dead long ago." Chiron said.

"I am going under the pseudonym of James Bond, but I am of the Potter line. The last Lord and Member of the House, and the godly powers of the House are unlocked to flow freely within me." I said, waiting for their reaction.

For a moment, they looked surprised, but then understanding came to their faces.

"A Magic School, as one of the Hecate Blessed. I see. Well, I get on really quite well with many of your godly patrons, especially Tyche and Fortuna. Everyone gets drunk while gambling, and in a moment of bad luck, most turn to drinking. I am Dionysus, God of Wine. Though you and all of the other brats will call me Mr. D. I will be your camp counselor. Unfortunately however, we do not have a Cabin for your patrons, so you will have to reside within the Hermes Cabin." Dionysus said.

"Do you have any excessively dangerous weapons, relics, or contraband?" Chiron asked kindly.

"Yes. I will not be able to spar with my Sword. All other weapons are not particularly dangerous." I said. I was blatently lying of course, but anyone who would come near the Deathly Hallows would sense the power of them and freak out.

"Why is your Sword dangerous?" Chiron asked.

"A falchion of three and a half feet of Goblin-Wrought Steel, embued with the venom of a thousand year old Basilisk. I don't know about divine intervention, but there is only one substance in the Magical World which is able to nullify it. And it happens to be excessively rare."

"Indeed. Well, go find the Hermes Cabin, and get settled." Chiron said. I looked towards Mr. D, but he simply grunted and waved me off, attention now on his card hand. Rude.

I walked out of the Big House in a huff but then brightened up once I saw the Woods. Another Forest, presumably full of deadly monsters. I was in heaven.

* * *

 **AN-Anouther one bites the dust. Hope you guys liked that. Its a little bit harder writing in first person, but whatever. So, Harry needs a weapon which he can use when not using wand or sword. Any suggestions? I already have an idea for it, but I wouldn't mind some help. Also, more power practice coming in next chapter. This is before luke and annabeth and thalia get to camp btw. Review, review, and Mcannbookworm wrote a small fanfic spinoff of Blood Runes. Go check it out. Again, review some more.**


	3. Chapter 3

_I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm._

 _Franklin D. Roosevelt_

 **Chapter 3-Take a Chance**

* * *

So, I found an adequate weapon for when I want to fight something, but not necessarily kill it. It's not over-the-top, like a bazooka or something like that. Heads up, the Mist doesn't fool metal detectors. So nothing super big. Still should be pretty damned terrified.

I went to a gun store, and tossed a blanket Confundus so that everyone would believe that I have the necessary permits. And then went and bought a Smith & Wesson 500 Magnum. And when they say Magnum, this gun will prove it.

I am really not too shabby with enchanting things. But I know nothing about guns. So, I just asked the owner what some of the variables for creating guns are. Jackpot. Literally. I Engorgioed the gun out in the forest so that I could have extra room for all the runes that I was going to write. The most obvious enchantments to be added, were a Heat-Absorbing rune set, a Momentum-Conserving which used to be added to Wizarding weaponry, and a Feather-Weight Charm. The Heat-Absorbing was for the bullets when fired, but the real game changer was the Momentum-Conserving.

It was a funny little charm from the Middle Ages, which basically took Newtons Laws and twisted them into pretzels. (Somewhere, someone will be salty at me for that explaination. And the following pun.) It took the idea of "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction" and reversed the "opposite". The basic idea is that you swing a sword at someone, and it bounces off their armor and sends a shock of force down your arm. However, the charm takes the recoil of the force, and reverses it to be turned the other direction.

This, in effect has the very interesting effect of doubling the speed of one's bullet, whilst removing ANY recoil. Yeah, awesome right?

Not enough. The hammer of the gun is cool for aesthetic purposes, and intimidation, but it takes time to cock it and fire. So I just experimented a bit with some bullets and a Firebrand Charm. Didn't take long before I got lucky. Literally. So, while it looks like a revolver, it can be fired without thumbing the hammer. Very fast.

The real issue was the bullets. I basically had to enlarge the gun to right the rune sequences, but the bullets were even more difficult. I had to make the gun conjure Celestial Bronze bullets with all the components and chemicals done perfectly. As well as several charms on the flying bits of metal themselves. Nothing fancy, just some spells that increased weight by a bit. Also, a miniscule Bubble-Head Charm with a slight modification does wonders for air resistance.

I was considering using incendiary ammo, you know, the magnesium rounds that melt through tank armor? But, I am lazy, and that is way overkill. I already have the Elder Wand, I don't need a super gun. Of course, there may have been a bit of iron sprinkled into the regular bullets. Pesky mortals.

And now, I got to try it out...

* * *

" _Hey, Chiron, what lives in the forest over there?" I asked, attempting to sound moderately curious._

 _He gave me a scrutinizing look. "Various monsters, which exist for one to train against. Currently? I believe that we have a hydra somewhere in there. But I don't want children facing it. Perhaps you could deal with it?"_

 _Fuck. Yes._

* * *

So now, I was searching for a hydra. I had been of course briefed by Chiron, and it seemed almost disappointingly easy. Killing something which is no challenge, must then include some kind of objective. Thus, I was only going to use my pistol for the first 30 minutes of encountering the beast.

"Here, hydra, hydra." I cooed. I then felt rather ridiculous, and whipped out my gun and shot it in the air to try to attract something. A loud crack rang out through the air. A random cleaning harpy fell from the sky, with a huge hole in it's chest. Ugh. Blood. Gore. Ha, yeah right. Potter Luck for the win.

Speaking for large cracks in the air, I just realized that I forgot a silencing charm. For covert missions where I go undercover and act discrete...

Yeah never mind, Silencing Charms are unnecessary.

I spread out my senses through the "Force™". Or something. What should I call it? The Nexus? The Field? The Constant Awareness of any Luck, Good or Bad? Dunno. Lets go with the Nexus for now.

I began probing my senses through the part of the Nexus closest to myself. Several pings occured, good and bad. A branch fall here, a shiny rock there. Very minor stuff. Then, I felt a weird oscillating ping. It was coming towards me very loudly, and kept changing in nature. The Hydra.

The very interesting thing about luck, is the importance of perception. If a person has good luck in a card game, that could mean conversely that all the other players are having bad luck. This ping was shifting, because it happens to be rather bad luck for most people to encounter a hydra, given the trend of lethality and general killing. However, given that I had been looking for it, that means good luck for me to find it. And good luck for the hydra to have a meal, but very bad luck as well, given that meeting me generally shortens lifespans. Especially disposable monsters.

It lumbered out of the trees, a monstrously huge, scaly monster, with gleaming scales, shining teeth, the highly lethal acid. It stared around with its poisonous green eyes, looking for me. Though, it could be argued that they were just regular green, given that every single part of the creature was poisonous. Even the blood. Yeah, totally taking the Sword of Gryffindor for a dip after it's dead.

Wait. Why isn't it attack- oh. Right, my Cloak.

I shrug my shoulders, and the Cloak shifts and morphs into a pitch-black suit of armor. The thing about the Cloak, is that it has the ability to take wards, and turn them physical. It is a bit hard to explain. It basically takes the very concept of a certain ward, and then puts it into a physical manifestation of magic. Looking at it under a microscope would reveal that it is incredibly dense, tangible magic. Hence, the rumored immunity to wear and tear. You cannot tear a concept after all.

The setting that it was on during the myth of the Three Brothers, was the Fidelius Charm, which was in fact invented by Ignotus Peverell and then passed down the Potter line. Of course, the secret to activating the Cloak was not passed down. Thank god for the Resurrection Stone. Or Cadmus Peverell anyway.

The armor that the Cloak turned into is a fun little ward called the Bounce Ward. It basically does the opposite of the Momentum Conservation Charm and bounces matter back with double the energy they normally would have. And given it's current, combative purpose, it has morphed into a more appropriate look.

Enough of that. The hydra saw me appear out of nowhere, and immediately attacked. It struck at me multiple times, fast as a cobra, but I dodged them all. Not through skill or anything. Just heritage.

Let's see...

I brought up my arm and clutched my gun with both hands, bringing it up to aim at one of the heads. I fired, with a tremendous crack splitting the air.

The head exploded into a cloud of blood, gore and skull fragments. Whoops, looks like I over did the Weight Charms on the bullets. Eh.

I fired again, several times, each managing to hit the hydra. It was down to only two heads. Out of SEVEN! This was getting disappointing.

There it goes. What happens when one of the Potter Line says one of those phrases. You know, the ones that absolutely bugger up every situation? Like, "I've got a bad feeling about this", or " It could have been worse", or "At least it isn't raining". Yeah. The hydra just started regrowing heads. What is that? Like twelve?

Eh. I began firing as fast as I could, not even caring about cocking the hammer for effect. Clouds of red mist began exploding around the hydra, destroying the heads right as they regrew.

Wow, my finger is getting tired. What are we at, around a hundred heads? LEFT HAND!

I switch my gun to my left hand, and start shaking it, to get it used to the weight. Then I brgin firing again, whilst summoning the Sword. The next time a couple of heads lunge for me, I swing at them with my Sword. Hot knife, meet butter. And laugh maniacally.

Huge spurts of blood start spraying out from the hydra, but Basilisk Venom is still superior and is similar enough that I am not effected by the poisonous everything. I mean, what is more poisonous, the blood and venom so deadly that even smelling it kills you, or the venom that is able to destroy Horcruxes. Like, soul-destroying venom totally trumps everything else. No exceptions.

Well, I am getting bored, and in no way overwhelmed. (Read:257 hydra heads striking at you several times per every five seconds)

Time to kill this fucker. So easy. So innocent. So unsuspecting.

" _Flagrate Flagellum"_ I said, dropping my Sword and whipping out the Elder Wand. The Elder Wand gleamed a menacing black, and a sort of hum emanating from it. The damned thing was bloodthirsty. Literally. Eh, may as well feed it.

A hundred foot long whip made of black fire blasted out from the Deathstick. The hydra stepped back, suddenly uncertain. I grinned coldly. Then I flicked my wrist.

The hydra looked surprised. Of course, I may be reading that wrong. The facial expressions of decapitated bodies are notoriously hard to decipher. The black fire-whip died out, almost reluctantly, and I could see the smoking heads of the hydra bouncing down the hill that we had been fighting on.

I quickly cast a massive Stasis Charm on the body and heads. Time itself froze around the reptile, and it ceased to turn into a pile of sulferous yellow dust.

I'll be damned if I didn't take some sort of souvenir from it. And render it down and use its corpse for dark rituals.

* * *

I eventually ended up using some badass Alchemy and Transfiguration to first strip the hide from the hydra, then to turn the scales into poker chips. They were still hydra scales though, so they were deadly poisonous. I also gave them an edge around them, so I could toss em at people and watch them die. Horribly. In agony. I also laughed hysterically when a Hermes bunkmate of mine ended up in the care of the Apollo Campers after trying to gamble with them. The moron was poisoned for three days, with regular doses of godly food.

I took the various skulls that had fallen, and crafted several sets of dice from them. Those were my heavy hitters. It took freaking days to enchant, and that was with the full power of the Elder Wand, and the knowledge from the Resurrection Stone. But I did it(with much help from the shade of Cadmus Peverell).

Whenever I would roll the dice, the number that would come up would summon that number of ghostly hydras. Not fun ghosts, but the tangible, tear-you-to-pieces magical constructs. The thing was that each hydra head was a seperate consciousness, and thus with some theory about the Resurrection Stone, I was eventually able to get it to summon and bind the various intelligences of the heads, and give them magical conjurations to hold. Of course, the nice thing was that each ghost appeared as a full multi-headed hydra, given that they still interpreted that as their natural look.

If anyone is wondering about the general theme of these weapons, it is for several purposes. One, is because it looks badass, and goes well with my ridiculously well-suited nickname, Lucky Charms. I still am proud of it. Another part of it is to honor my godly relatives, and get some goodwill coming my way. And finally, it helps my reputation as a "Son of Luck" as I have been saying. With hope, no one would expect, or assume my true identity.

Now, before I go to Tartarus for a monster-hunting expedition, I will need to go to Vegas...

Somewhere, a Casino Manager feels a shiver of fear run up his back...

* * *

 **AN-This chapter was a little difficult to write. Give me some reviews, cause i am not sure about the quality of this. Also, what did you think of the hydra? I feel like to a wizard, a lot of the mythological creatures become suddenly less dangerous. Like Flying Creatures + Summoming Charm = Fail. Snake creatures + Jelly legs jinx = absurdity and severe spinal damage. And don't even get me started on the Unforgivables. So, gun experts, I invite you all to come correct me. Hydra lovers, go cry in the corner as the ridiculousness of a flame whip. And Lucifer16985214 lovers, review and or write one-shot spinoffs. Yeah. Review review review, and you may get a new canon charactor next chapt.**


	4. Chapter 4

_You gotta try your luck at least once a day, because you could be going around lucky all day and not even know it._

 _-Jimmy Dean_

 **Chapter 4-KILL IT TO DEATH!**

* * *

I should really change my profession to "Official BADASS". It totally describes me.

So, I had to nix the idea of Vegas. Admittedly, I really should have seen it coming. A Potter walks into a casino? Sounds like a set up to a bad joke. But really, the fatalities were totally not my fault. Initially anyway.

So, I walk into the the casino, nodding my head and just acting chill, when all of a sudden, every single slot machine wins the million dollar combo. It was bad, man, just bad. All in a single motion, every shady poor gambler/housewife jumps up screaming over the sound of the "Cha-Ching" noise. Everyone is jumping up and down, and is super happy, when the sirens go on, and casino security stream out of every door. Suddenly, screams of joy turn to screams of fright.

Apperantly the casino's really REALLY hate it when people win. They also hate cheaters. And they really have the sense that the odds are to high for that to happen naturally. So, next thing I know, I am being shoved into the street by some black-clad super soldier type. Seriously, these guys looked like SWAT team. A very mean, tattooed SWAT team complete with cracking knuckles and really big guns.

Now lets get something straight here. I was already halfway to passing out drunk from earlier fun, and I am really confused. Mixed with some nasty PTSD, you really can't blame me from pulling out the Hand Cannon, as I christianed my Magnum, when a guy points the gun in my face.

SWAT team starts freaking out, and screaming at me, and I am just blearily waving the gun around. Then, I accidentally point it at some green recruit, and he panicks and fires. Now I am drunk, confused, and feeling rather threatened. My lucky aura starts flailing about, and the bullet misses, then richochets into the gas tank of a nearby car. Exploding several of the officers. Thats 4 down for the count.

Absolute panic and pandemonium. Everyone starts shooting and screaming, so I decide to join in the fun, singing while I do it. I was rather drunk after all. (The song was "Another One Bites the Dust". Go figure.)

I start shooting randomly, and low and behold, there is a hole in Security. That is to say, there are holes in the Security Team.

I shoot once, and witness a rather satisfying explosion blood and gore. I pivot on my heel and shoot twice at a second guy. Oops. Did not know that this thing shoots through Kevlar. I must have over done some of the enchantments.

I drop to my knees to avoid a spray of gunfire that I sense, and shot blindly several times.

"AH, MY KNEE" a random voice screams out. Eh, he probably doesn't kneed it.

I do a roll, and end up next to a random officer. I crack him over the head with the Hand Cannon. For some reason though, he was sent flying through the wall. Eh, whatever.

Sensing no gunfire, I straighten up. And blink. Several times. Woah.

The casino is now on fire, there are about two dozen dead Security Personnel laying on the ground, and several cars are exploding, and or have already blown up. Damn, it looks like a warzone. Eh, not my problem.

I twist and Apparate away.

* * *

So, that was fun. But I am not going back to Vegas. Too risky.

So now, I am going to Tartarus. To hunt monsters.

But first, I must look cool.

I walk into an abandoned alleyway, and walk to the dumpster. I pick up a beer bottle, and do a Transfiguration into a pair of reflective aviator shades. Ooh, shiny. I am easy to impress sometimes. I etch a couple locking runes on it, and then power them on, so it doesn't change back into a beer can when I am trying to impress someone. What can I say, I am just that cheap.

I swirl the Cloak around me, this time getting a Repelling Ward. Both a physical and mental ward, it diverts and scares people from it, and pushes away others. But the best part, is that this time, it took the form of a wicked badass trenchcoat. A shiny, black, dragon-hide trenchcoat. I swirl it around me several times. Then I get a wicked smirk on my face, and cast that one Charm that Snape always used to make his robes billow out. It was a simple cantrip that would permanently mimic the effect of wind streaming through any location one wants. I conjure a mirror. Fuck yes. Rocking that Morpheus look. Damn straight.

Just for fun, I toss on a couple glamours, such as one to make my eyes glow faintly, as well as one to whiten my teeth. Yep. I look good. Kids, one piece of advice, is to not be an accessory to crime. Instead accessorize before a crime, to scare everyone.

I walk out of the alley, and down the street to the recording studio of death. I open the door and enter a lobby filled with various souls moaning about how they were broke in death. Gods-be-damned, the Afterlife had hobos as well. This definitely soured my mood.

I walked up to the guy standing behind the counter.

"Hey, Charon, I want to be added to the boatload of souls today." I said.

"Do you have the standerd bribe?" He said in an oily tone of voice, stroking hiz obviously expensive Italian Suit.

I grin like a shark and pull out my Sword.

"Hey Charon, I could just stab you with this. You are a god, and thus cannot die, but a sword with Soul-Rending Poison on it will hurt you a lot for several centuries."

"No, not the standerd bribe, just the typical one" Charon muttered sourly. Seems like he's gotten similar offers.

"What if I were inclined to call for security?" He said, glaring at me.

"I am going to Tartarus for a monster hunt. Do it. I dare you." I said with a feral grin on my face.

Charon sighed and rubbed his face. "Fine. But if you survive, you better send down some rich assholes to make up for the bribe."

Charon waved his hand ill-temperedly, and I followed him to an elevator. Several other people were allowed to come with, and the elevator doors closed. We began descending smoothly, and some of the ghostly spirits shifted about nervously.

After a little bit, a black fog began to engulf us and the floor changed beneath our feet. I began to feel a sideways motion. I squint ahead, and realize that we are on a boat, and Charon has transformed into a skeleton in a robe.

We float along the Styx, and I can sense...broken luck. The shattered dreams of those who died emanate a sort of absence of luck. Huh. Wierd.

Charon comes up behind me, and we both watch the River Styx silently. We were having a moment. Then he pushes me off. Fucker.

"Hey you asshole, we were having a moment! Not cool!" I yelled.

By some incredible(ly typical) luck, I fell onto a floating cabinet, and was able to hold on without falling in.

Charon smirked nastily. "This is your stop. Besides, lets see you get threatened with soul-rending liquids instead. Not so nice huh?"

Rude fucker. I pulled out my pistol and shot him in the eye socket. As the boat floated away, all I could hear was a muffled cussing. Haha, sucker.

After casting a boatload(snicker) of Impervious Charms I made my way to the other side of the river. Once I was there, I summoned my Sword, and quickly dipped it into the Styx. A heard a muffled hissing, and when I drew it out again, black steam was wafting off of it. I'll be damned if I don't apply every single dangerous substance to my precious Goblin-Made Sword. Ooh! Next time I come here, I am totally filling up a squirt gun with water from the Lethe.

I began walking toward the black hole that was near the beach. And Tartarus was a Black Hole in more ways than one. I could feel it pulling and tugging at me. It had it's own damned gravity, and walking towards it felt like walking down a steep hill. Meh. Come at me bros.

I jumped into the bottomless pit.

* * *

Falling.

Falling more.

Falling through the air.

Yeah, bottomless pit seems kinda accurate. I've been falling for hours.

Suddenly, I see a light. Funnily enough, it looks like the light at the end of the tunnel that everyone describes. Ironic, since I am already in the most literal version of Hell that you can get.

Woah. I got close enough, and can now see the ground. Spikes. Obsidian shards. Sand. Not something I want to particularly hit while going at terminal velocity. Luckily, wizards just cheat extravagantly.

" _Arresto Momentum"_ I yelled out, flailing the Elder Wand like a baton. Hey, you try to do precise movements when falling at terminal velocity. But, it seems like the Elder Wand worked, and I...floated? Goddamnit, I floated gracefully down like a feather.

Disappointed at the lack of badass landing, I tossed a couple Exploding Hexes at the landscape. Unbeknownst to myself, the explosions killed the monsters trying to reform around me.

I casually walk to one of the rocks, and climb to the top. Desolate. That's the word that comes to mind. An infinite, reddish-black waste of obsidian and sand, with the occasional monster roaming around. A couple hundred meters from my position, is what appears to be a river made out of fire. Awesome. Now, it's landscaping time, bitches.

I brandish the Elder Wand, and transfigure the ground around me, into dirt. Like real, grow things in it dirt. I then carefully carve out a bed, and the create an infinite spring on top of the rock that I am sitting on. The water flows down and out, making a small cheery brook. I smile at the image.

Finally, I use magic to conjure up what appears to be a storage container. You know, like one of those containers that you see on cargo ships. I expand the space inside it, then I magic up all of the necessary comforts of home. Kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, etc. Before long, it was looking like one of those Wizarding Tents that most people rave about. I finally put up some wards around it, and then conjure the grass to go with the dirt. A couple trees too.

Yes, I have successfully acquired real estate in the most undesirable location on the planet. Excluding Siberia and Death Valley.

I conjure a ladder on the side of my container home, and climb to the top, then conjure a beanbag chair. And now, I sit down. Waiting for monsters.

Waiting.

Waiting...

As I sit, idly bored, I conjure up a few more things. Like an enchanted trampoline which draws demigods towards it and negates fall damage. Also a massive air filtration system, so that I don't die of the radioactive air. Aaaaand now I am bored again.

Fuck this. I reach into my pocket, and pull out a radio broadcaster that I bought specifically for this. There aren't radios, or stations down here in Tartarus, but there are most certainly monsters. Who are attracted to radios like moths to a flame. Or a bugzapper in this metaphor. Ohh, theres my first monster. A drakon. Don't care what species.

I slowly pull out the Hand Cannon, and level it at the Drakon. And then I stop, to break down laughing.

The drakon can't get passed the wards. It can see me and smell me, but now it's just acting like a retarded video game AI.

I have myself a good laugh at that, and then pepper the Drakon with shots. Huh. No dice. Apperantly, drakons have tough skin. Like basilisk tough. Well, down and dirty it is.

I summon the Sword of Gryffindor, and slash it around at the ground. Woah, that is corrosive. Melting my lawn with the various deadly substances on it.

I walk up to the Drakon, which is still trying to get passed the wards. Then, I whack it. With my sword. In the face.

The Sword smoothly cuts through the armor of the monster, penetrating to the mouth with almost no resistance. I withdraw it, and strike again before the monster can escape. Finally, I hit my goal. The venom sacks. The corrosive acid of the Drakon brand trickles down my sword and is absorbed into it. Meanwhile, the Drakon is making some hissing, shrieking scream. It appears to be trying to spit acid, but no longer has the correct facial anatomy to do so.

And now, we wait for the monster to succumb to the intense poison in 3...2...1...NAILED IT! The drakon disintegrated in a puff of sulferous yellow smoke, leaving it's scaly hide see, there's actually another reason I came to Tartarus. Aside from the whole have fun killing things. You see, in videogames, there are monster drops, which can then be sold for a great deal of money, usually because nobody wants to actually fight the monster. Ignoring lunatics like me. But since I am down here, I can just grind against endless monsters, and kill them, constantly getting trophies. Nothing short of a First Monster, God or a Titan is going to get through my wards. By First monster, I mean like the Original monsters. Cerberus (Which, due to reading mythology trivia, I now know that Hagrid wasn't all that bad of a namer. Cerberus actually means Spot in Ancient Greek. Spot, the three-headed dog. Not much better than Fluffy.). Medusa. The children of Typhon. You get the point.

I wave my wand, and rock music begins to play. I conjure up a couple cups, and fill them with some alcoholic punch.

"It's Party Time!" I yell, randomly conjuring balloons and streamers. Then, I feel a sudden increase in air temperature, and a violet light flashes. It's Mr. D. Hey, it worked.

"Hello Mr. D. How are you today?" I ask politely as I snap off a couple rounds at the approaching crowd of empousa. I finish them off, sending up a cloud of sulfer, and I summon the Celestial Bronze legs. Wow. I wonder how much these could go for. That is about three or four swords that you can make from every leg. I am gunna be rich.

"Well, suffice it to say, I am really quite surprised at being called down to a party at this location. Now Harvey, why are you here?" He said, looking slightly annoyed.

"Well, you're the god, you tell me." I said, smart-aleck that I am. The wine god glared at me, with images of grape vines curling around and choking people. Mainly me.

"Yes, well, it has been thousands of years, and nobody knows what the Hades Prometheus was thinking when he made mankind. Prometheus is completely insane by now, and if someone asks, they are treated to long obscure lectures about morality and such. Word of advice. Do not, go near him. Prometheus is at this point one of the most dangerous entities today with any semblance of freedom. He is the Titan of Foresight, which means that he is almist guaranteed to outsmart people. He is a builder, but by now, all his creations mirror his ruined mind. He created humanity, and sparked them to life, and we have all seen how that creation has advanced. All gods are wary of him now, as they are dependent on his creation for their very existance. Which may have been the plan all along." Mr. D said, looking abnormally serious.

"Gotcha. Prometheus equals bad news." I said.

Dionysus just stared at me flatly, emanating disgust for my summery of the situation. He just popped out, without saying anything. Damnit.

Well, back to casual monster slaying.

* * *

 **AN-Yeah, sorry this is late, but I had to get some surgery. My wisdom teeth were removed, and now my cheeks are swelling up like oranges. It looks horrifying. On a seperate note, I will try to enter canon next chapter, and really kick off the story. You got a longer chapter this time, and a hint at a new character. Also, before you review horrible things, keep in mind that Harry is a wizard with the Elder Wand. Given what Tartarus looked like from the books, I would say that it is rather reasonable for Harry to just grind away in a generic part of Hell. Anyway. Review, review review, and tell me what you want me to do next.**

 **-Lucifer**


	5. Chapter 5

_Most of us regard good luck as our right, and bad luck as a betrayal of that right._

 _-William Feather_

 **Chapter 5-Flipping a Coin**

* * *

One of my absolute favorite pastimes, is slaying monsters. For money. For fun. You get the point. The only problem is that monsters take time to reform. Like decades-long reform time. Here I was, having a party in Tartarus, and I ran out of monsters trying to kill me. Admittedly, I was rather successfully spawn-camping them and with my K/D ratio, any sensible monster would have just rage-quit and avoided me.

So, I left my little piece of real estate after living there for three weeks. I left a Portkey Beacon there, so that I could directly get there without the interdimensional travel throwing me into the Abyss. You know, the literal one that surrounds Tartarus, which is sort of like an island floating in space. If you begin thinking of the dimensional metaphysics of that, your brain will be fried. Do it. I dare you.

Regardless, I just came back out of Tartarus the way I got in. With a completely unfair application of magic, involving a levitating chair. Anti-climactic, but it does the job. I then just floated myself over the Styx, and out. Not without leaving a Tripping Jinx on Charon's boat though. I do have standards, after all.

So, I reached the surface, waltzed past a dumbfounded Charon, and walked out into the street. Then I apparated in the general direction of New York.

The Potter Luck strikes again. I apparate directly into the camp of several half-bloods. One had blond hair, and rather stormy grey eyes. Yep, dead-ringer for Athena. Another one seemed rather gothic, with spiky black hair. I would peg her for Hades, but the lightning crackle is a dead giveaway. Last one, I don't know. Atheletic, blue-eyes, blond hair. Could be a number of parents.

"Well hello there." I say beaming at them. They don't appear to be reassured.

"Who the hell are you?" the punk girl asks flatly. Wow, paranoid much.

"I assume that you already know that you are demigods. I am Bond. James Bond." I flash them a grin behind my sunglasses. I probably don't look all that trustworthy, when I'm dressed like Morpheus from the Matrix. Oh well.

The demigods attempt to subtly loosen their weapons, for an easier draw.

"Aww, hey none of that. I am a psuedo-demi-god. If that makes any sense." I explain patiently. They don't look convinced. "Alright, so I am sort of descended from a hodgepog of different gods. The general effect is an overpowered mix between Hecate and Tyche. When I enter battle, I believe the terms you American's use is FUBAR, for the other side."

For a while, the demi-gods just stared at me. Then the blond kid stepped forward. "Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes. Generally decent swordsman."

"Thalia. Daughter of Zeus" the goth girl said, leaning up against a tree. And, heres the glare. Not very friendly apparently.

"Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena." The blond girl said, staring at me with distrusting grey eyes.

Wow, what a prickly group of demi-gods. Can you spell P-A-R-A-N-O-I-A? Yeah, definitely friendly. Hang on, lets see if I can pull a Dumbledore.

"Are you being chased by monsters? How long have you been on the run?" I asked, putting on a serious face, that spoke of wisdom and power. All I need to fit the picture is a beard.

The group looked at me as if I were crazy. Seriously, they looked as if I should belong in an insane asylum. Time to up the ante.

I wiggled my fingers a bit, and cast a cosmetic cantrip on my eyes, to make them have that vague twinkly effect that Dumbledore always had. Then I slowly took off my sunglasses.

Thalia just raised an eyebrow, Luke looked a little conflicted, and little impressionable Annabeth looked as if she were able to break down crying.

Here comes the punchline...

"Don't worry dear, everything will get better." I said, looking at Annabeth. "Lemondrop?" I asked, surreptitiously conjuring one in my hand.

The lost expression dropped from Annabeth's face as she stared at me in bewilderment.

"What?" Luke asked.

I couldn't control myself. I fell to the ground laughing hysterically, actual tears coming out of my eyes whenever I saw their expressions.

The bushes rustled, and a group of the bizarre Empousai came out.

"Aha. Finally found you, foolish demigods. We have been tracking you for days, and now we have you." The leader said.

I doubled up laughing again. Potter Luck, HO!

"Who are you? I sense that you are not mortal, yet have no godly parents." The lead monster said confusedly.

I slowly rise to my feet, then put my shades back on. Lets check my pockets... Ooh a binary portkey. That'll be dramatic. I snake my hand into my pocket and withdraw a pair of dice. I rattle them in my hand, and stare at the Empousa.

"Gotta pair of dice. Now the only question is... Are ya feelin lucky, punk?" I growled in my best Clint Eastwood impersonation.

Everyone looked confused, except forLuke, who looked vaguely excited.

I whipped my hand forward, throwing the dice at the Empousa. One hit her in the face, and the other in the thigh. They both stuck to her, as if like a magnet.

"Was that supposed to do something?" She jeered at me.

My expression was an odd mix of feral and gleeful. "Activate!"

Let us all now picture what would happen if a person were touching two incontinetal Portkeys leading to different place, while they activated simultaneously. Aaaand grimace.

The leader disappeared in a dual flash of light, with a massive burst of blood droplets emanating from where she had been. It flew out and spattered everyone in the clearing.

Everyone looked confused. Everyone also looked terrified. I could already tell, today was just a very good day. And would only get better.

With a blur of motion I whipped out the Hand Cannon with my left hand, while summoning the Sword of Godric Gryffindor with my right. Three shots rang out, and three corresponding puffs of sulferous smoke could be seen from the ranks of the monsters. The falchion snaked out, a sinuous gleam of deadly metal. I hacked at the remaining Empousai, not bothering with special swordsmanship. They grinned expecting this error to be the end of me, as they attempted to use spears to deflect my blow.

Everyone other than me was surprised, when the spears gave way to my Sword, which then proceeded to carve through the Empousa like a hot knife through butter, and nicked several others who were bunched up in the area. They too exploded in sulferous piles, and the remaining ones turned to flee.

I whipped around my Magnum, and aimed down the sights, more for dramatic effect than anything else. The pistol jerked four more times, and then the forest was quiet again.

"Well, that's done. Anything else?" I asked smiling.

They just stood staring at me. Eh, easily impressed. I smile encouragingly at them, and beckon them closer.

Instead they step back. Go figure.

Eh, anti-heros don't need morality.

I whip out the Elder Wand, and stun them before they can react.

Portkey to Camp Half-Blood, coming right up.

* * *

I have been told that I am an evil, sadistic, amoral son of a bitch, who just so happened to like fighting evil, since it is more fun to fight in advanced mode. There may be some truth to this.

Sometimes I feel like my life is just a videogame. I have to jump through ridiculous flaming hoops, that have no logical sense when all is said and done. I get to train and level up in DADA to a ridiculous degree. Oh, you beat Voldemott twice and Tom Riddle once? That has loads of experience tied to those events, so you automatically level up to learning a PATRONOUS CHARM WHEN YOU ARE THIRTEEN! Sometimes, life is ridiculous. All the other times, it just gives you boss battles, grunts, and quests. And disgusting minor charactors like Peter Pettigrew for comedic relief.

Everytime I voice this theory, I am promptly denied, yelled at, and then I get mad and start killing things again. To be fair though, Uncle Vernon is the most stereotypical NPC I have every seen here. And in real videogames, those are always the ones you want to kill, even more than the stereotypical overpowered yet underwhelming villains. It is simply an experiment, you see. The only way to find out if you are secretly in a videogame, is to kill off an annoying NPC and see if they miraculously ressurect when you leave the room.

Unfortunately, spontaneous Auto-Necromancy does not happen in real life, so I belief it is safe to assume that I am reality. After all, reality is that which when you stop believing in it, does not go away. Firmly ignoring magic, which just rapes the laws of physics and reality anyway.

Suddenly, I feel a wave of dread spread over me, interrupting my introspective musing. I have been standing in an alleyway in San Francisco for several minutes now. Obvious reasons for strolling about the Monster Capital of the world, yet I feel cold. I reach out, and metaphysically stumble. I cannot access my Luck Senses, affectionately nicknamed the Nexus. Everything has become cold and dark, as if the concept of chance itself is fading away. Everything is no longer random, it is instead the logical progression of a chain of events. There is no chance, there is only actions and consequences. And it is terrifying.

Something turned in the alley where I am standing. A figure shambles toward me. It wore black clothes, a black hat, and black gloves. In fact, I couldn't see any flesh at all. I pulled out the Hand Cannon and fired a couple times. Holes erupted in it's flesh, but it kept moving. It's skin looked almost melted, some odd plastic doll that had been microwaved. I put away the gun, and summoned the Sword. Just as it reached for me, I swung my Sword, and it's hand was severed. But the creature did not die from the poison. In fact, it was not even bleeding.

"What the hell!" I yelled, as I swung again. Acting as though it was an Undead, I cleaved it's limbs off, and kicked it away from me.

"A golem, nothing more." I heard. The voice was coming from a person at the entrance to the alley. He was pale-skinned, with dark hair. His face looked peculiar, his features almost too sharp and angular to be human. He also looked like a rather terrifying mixture of Benedict Cumberbatch and Keanu Reeves when playing Neo from the Matrix. Very scary faces.

"Who the hell are you?" I yelled, offput by the lack of godly powers.

"Well, I go by many names. I am your antithesis. I am both the ultimate hero, and the ultimate villian. You may call me Satan." The man said.

"Seriously? Satan is real too!?"

"Not as such, no. However, I am the inspiration for Satan. I am the personification of all of humanities greatest strengths and weaknesses." He said, smiling. I really didn't like that smile. It was the smile that said, 'You don't even know how fucked you are, and I am currently gloating about it'.

"Who are you?" I asked again, this time warily. A very nasty suspicion was starting to grow in my head.

"I am Lucifer. I made humanity what it is today!" He said.

"Lucifer, the lightbringer. The most cherished angel before the fall. Before...the betrayal. Prometheus."

"Guilty as charged." The titan said softly, still smiling. It was an odd combination between a smirk, and a knowing smile. Still terrifying.

"Oh yes, I have indeed transformed into a Satan worthy of any Dante. Just look at the parallels. Most cherished, yet pride cometh before the fall. In my desire to give this race greatness, I have been punished. Does it really matter if it was fire, or the apple? For either way, it inspired greatness." He said.

As Prometheus spoke, his voice rippled over me. It was a perfect harmony and melody. The spoke quickly and elegantly with no detectable accent. It flowed over me like water, a rippling clear river. It was as sweet as honey, and as soft as velvet. And yet, it was disconcerting, a horrifying disconnect. Because it did not match his jet-black eyes.

Darkness covered the eyes of Prometheus, a black film that absorbed all light. It covered even the whites of the eyes, and it was only that which served to remind me, that this creature was not human. It may look human, it may act human, but ultimately it was born of a concept, and thus was alien.

"Why do my powers cease to work around you?" I asked, morbidly curious.

"Because I am a Titan. I am a concept, which is the complete opposite of you. I am Science. You are Religion. I am literally named Foresight in Greek. I am Foresight, just as I am Prometheus. Foresight is the concept of planning, of actions having consequences no matter how small. I embody the Butterfly Effect, and thus, chance cannot exist near me."

This was bad. This was very bad. He was a positive to my negative, and had so much more power than me, that it wasn't even funny.

I gathered my power around me, and Apparated away. And for weeks afterward, all I could see would be that horrible, knowing smirk.

* * *

 **AN-Hello, this is Lucifer, and I am still alive. This is a big chapter. Beginning of canon, and intro of main antagonist. So yeah. If anyone is interested, i actually chose my nickname because of all the parallels with prometheus and lucifer. I just found it a halarius cosmic joke. Anyway, it has been a while, and I will be back later. Please review. And like. And fav. But mostly review.**

 **-Lucifer**


	6. Chapter 6

_Nothing is as obnoxious as other people's luck._

 _-F. Scott. Fitzgerald_

 **Chapter 6-The Candyman**

* * *

Soft music played behind me. Somedays, I am content. Other days, I am completely horrified at my life choices and the monster that I have become. On those days, I go out of my way to murder some monsters to appease my aching conscience.

I hear the tinkle of the bell as I wait behind the wooden countertop.

"Welcome to Dumbledore Candy Shop, how may I help you?" I said with a smooth voice.

God I hate myself so much. After several months of calmly massacring my way through the monster population of America, the unthinkable happened. I couldn't find any more monsters. I had so completely decimated their population, that if they didn't resurrect themselves anyway, they would be considered an endangered species. Worse yet, instead of coming at me for revenge, most of em finally wised up to what I was doing, and have started avoiding me. Though the Minotaur is usually game for a fight whenever he comes back. Slow learner that one.

After I realized that I couldn't keep a full time career of monster hunting, I had to do something. I am not at all good at dealing with boredom, so I needed to occupy my time. So, I decided to become an honest businessman. I looked through ads in the paper, and did research on the internet, and finally bought a candy shop just north of NYC. However, the day I actually signed the papers, I was in an ecstatic mood due to killing a nest of Acromantula, and in a fit of whimsy, named the store for my hated Headmaster. They do say to never make important decisions while highly emotional. So I got myself stuck with the damnable name, with far too much paperwork to reasonably deal with to change it.

Though in honor of the old manipulater, I always have lemon drops stocked and on sale. If only so I can impersonate the basterd if the Wizarding World ever found me. And, I have grudgingly developed a sweettooth.

"Hello Mr. Bond. Can I have one of the Lollies?" The little girl asked. Ah, it was one of my regulars, little Maggie. She always came in after school to get lollipops. Not just any kind, but the massive spiral ones that put blisters on your tongue and make your teeth ache. She is adorable, but her voice puts me on edge. Just a bit, but still.

"Of course Maggie, that will be 3.99$." The little girl digs around in her pockets and scrounges up the required money. She flashes me a huge smile, and hands it over. I return the smile, and she runs off with her lollipop. I have to admit, I do like making kids smile. Thats probably the biggest reason I decided to open a candy shop. That and boredom. I bet my life would make a great story. James Bond. Candyman by day, monster slayer by night. With a secretive mysterious past, involving magic, wizards, an annoying prophecy, and an evil stereotypical Dark Lord. Eh, I'd watch that movie. If I weren't living it.

I softly hum the Candyman Song from Willy Wonka under my breath.

*Bzzt*

*Bzzt*

I hear a vibrating noise coming from the back room, and I roll my eyes at the inevitable annoyance. I walk into the storeroom, filled with wooden crates of candy, and I spot my mirror over in the corner. As I walk towards it, it continues vibrating, and emanating a rainbow aura.

My magic mirror, is just the basic version of what Sirius got me all those years ago, but with a incredibly useful ritual preformed on it. When I got it, I decided that for the sake of convenience, I would do this one nifty ritual on it, to anchor it to the idea of my location. The end result, is that it acts a bit like a Muggle smart phone. If people firecall me, it shows their holographic image to me, wreathed in green flames. Iris messages light it up rainbow, and any package sent by owls or mailman will teleport into the extra-dimensional space in it, once it gets within range. Hell, if I were to tell a random number to a Muggle, and they dialed with the intention of talking to me, it would reroute to my mirror. It teleports to me so that I can't leave it behind, unless I were to specifically put it down for it to stay. And the possibly best part, is that all forms of magical detection, tracking, wards for the location of one Harry James Potter are inevitably traced to the mirror. Unfortunately it does have limits. It only deflects identity based location finders, and a Point-Me spell for a forehead-located lightning bolt curse scar would be ridiculously effective. But wizards are too stupid anyways.

"Harry. We need you to come in." I heard, as I answered the call.

"What is it now, Chiron?" I groaned exasperatedly. The dignified face of the centaur raised an eyebrow at me through the mirror.

"We have a bit of a problem, as you would likely say. People who aren't you would call it the potential apocalypse." Chiron said dryly.

"A short amount of time ago, the Master Bolt of Zeus went missing." Chiron began somberly. "Then just a week or so ago, one Perseus Jackson came to camp, chased by the Minotaur, and was claimed by Poseidon. We are facing a possible Divine Civil War."

"So thats where the Minotaur went. He hasn't come to fight me recently. And PJ? I know that kid. This shop used to be part of the chain that his mom works at. Huh." I muse to myself. As I recall, the kid always hated me calling him PJ.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept-"

"AHAHAHAAA" I laughed hysterically. "Fucking shit Chiron, I was almost beginning to think that you didn't have a sense of humor. But wrong movies, sorry."

Chiron quirked a grin, that looked at odds with his tired eyes.

"The British may have their spy movies, but we have better ones in America." He said. He shifted nervously, and in the background, I could see the door closed and warded.

"Harry, we really need you. I know about your past, which is why I was only going to call you in as a last resort, especially given the parallels-"

"Parallels?" I said with a dangerous tone. "You have five seconds to explain, before I start getting nasty."

Chiron shifted uncomfortably as I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Green eyes, black hair, moody bastard with a unfortunate amount of angst, as well as a prophecy hanging over his head which he doesn't know about, and it refers to doomsday. Is that good enough for you Harvey?" Mr. D said as he casually idled into the room. He sat back and popped open a can of Coke, looking extremely bored.

I couldn't speak for a couple minutes. The information had reached my head, but was not computing. "Well, damn." I managed finally. "I guess I have a new project. I guess I will pop down, and start him with some training. That good with you?"

"Of course you are always welcome at camp. I wouldn't want to inflict you on the poor demigods of Hermes Cabin, so you can stay at the Big House." Chiron said, finally looking a bit relieved.

I grinned at the thought.

* * *

Right after the call, I activated a nifty little rune sequence under my counter, which would perform a massive Switching Spell on my shop. Everything in it, the candy, the shelves, the counter, would all be teleported into a Space-Expanded Trunk, and be rearranged to match the store. The Rune Sequence began to glow red and hum, and with a purple flash, everything in the shop disappeared, leaving only battered trunk, with a massive metal ring on the side. I shrunk it down proportionally, and then put it on my keychain, using the ring.

I flicked my wand at the door, and a sign appeared, reading "DUMBLEDORE'S CANDY SHOP CLOSED FOR RENOVATION".

I reached into my pocket, and pulled out a candy wrapper, which I promptly Transfigured into a neat pair of sunglasses. My shop uniform began to shimmer, and turn back into the Cloak of Death. I began to set it to an Intimidation Ward, and it slowly transformed into jet-black armor, fitting around me and emitting a aura of fear, terror, and dispair. And no, the Deathly Hallows are not my way of compensating for anything.

I did a twist. I did a turn. I did a neat little pirouette, and ripped a hole in the fabric of the universe. In short, I Apparated. Given that I usually put too much power in my spells, my Apparation is a bit more unpleasent then other peoples. Not only was I being crushed and warped in a straw, but I was also traveling at speeds to make my face jiggle, and spinning faster than a tire wheel. If I Side-Along anyone, they get sick immediately afterwards. Pussies.

With an earsplitting crack, I blasted past the Godly Protections on Camp. A small cloud of dust was kicked up by my arrival, and the shockwave shattered a window. Damn, I'm good.

Alright, I look around a bit, then set off for the Big House at a leisurely stroll, only pausing to ogle the nymphs. As I pass the rock wall, I shove past a pair of sparring Ares Campers. As I move away from them, I hear whispers.

"Dude, I think that was James Bond!"

"From the Movie?"

"Nah, it's some wicked awesome fighter who uses that as a psuedonym. No one knows his name, or parentage..."

The voices fade out as I get out of range, and I allow a brief smirk to cross my face. I walk up the stairs of the Big House, and yell. "YO CHIRON, GET YOUR PONY ARSE DOWN HERE TO GREET ME!"

I hear the creaking of Chiron's wheelchair, and the wooden door opened, with Chiron smiling faintly at me. "Come in, James. There's someone I would like you to meet."

He led me inside, and I came face to face with Perseus Jackson. I had met him before of course, but I had never REALLY observed him. He was kinda tan, with messy black hair and sea-green eyes. I knew he was bullied in school, a troubled adolescent, and had a shitty home life. I also knew that he was discovering a whole new world, that just so happened to have several potential Apocalypses with prophecies saying that only he could fix it. And now his mother was also abducted. Goddamnit. He's a mini-me.

Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of my soul, a cloud of rust and debris filled the air, as my old, abandoned, and outdated saving-people thing clanked it's sorry self back to life. Well, fuck.

"Hey PJ. And what can I do for you guv'ner?" I say cheerily, giving him a Lockhart-Worthy grin.

"Mr. Bond? The candyman? What, you are some magical god too?" Asked Percy, nonplussed.

"Sorry PJ, but I'm nothing of the sort. I'm not a god, monster, or even a proper half-blood. Here mate, have a lolly." I held out a blue lollipop, which was obviously blue raspberry and sugary as hell.

Percy mindlessly accepted it and stuck it in his mouth. "So, what are you? And stop calling me PJ!"

"Sorry brat, no can do." I said, ruffling his hair. He slapped my hand away. "I'm a weird amalgamation of godly ancestors, magical blessings, more magical blessings, and some fucked up family history. I'm not a proper half-blood, but I'll be damned if I can tackle a minor god or two. As for monster slaying, don't even ask. But all of that is irrelevant. I hear that you are on a deadline for the quest to save the world? Well I'm going along with, and I'll be your trainer."

Percy blinked. Then scowled. He rounded on Chiron, and yelled "You think some pansy ass Candyman can help me rescue my mom!"

Chiron looked at me warily, trying to gauge my reaction.

"Oh, who can save your mother?

Bring her back to you?

Oh the candyman can cause he fucks up all the shit,

And turns everyone to goo." I sing to the tune of the Willy Wonka song.

Percy just stares at me in an impotent rage, mostly because of how flipent I am about his tragedy. Dear god, this kid is like my clone. He goes to punch me in the face, but finds himself in a bind. Literally. In the moment he moved his arm, I wandlessly summoned and transfigured an empty soda can into a wicked looking knife. I seized his arm, and twisted it behind his back while flicking the knife up to his neck.

"Sorry kid, still too predictable. I give you points for not being a pansy though. Stand up for yourself, you hear me?" I said, gently smirking.

The kid nodded, a mulish expression on his face, but I could feel him shaking from the scare.

Chiron coughed a bit, in a vain effort to dispell the tension. "Well, now that you two have met, you should know that Percy was intending to bring Annabeth and Grover."

"Seriously? Well, it's gunna be a regular party then, isn't me, does Annabeth still hate me?"

"Vehemently" said Chiron, slightly amused.

"Awesome" I said. I clapped my hands together and got an evil smirk on my face. "Lets get this show on the road."

* * *

 **AN-Hey everybody, I am still alive. We are actually getting into the canon, and Harry is helping out Percy. Woot. School is coming up, and with the prospect of having nothing to do, I should be able to pump out more chapters. Also, if anyone wants to take my other story Omniscience, and adopt it, I am cool with that. Just make sure that its good quality, good grammer, and gets to at least 40k words. Msg me if interested. Or you can just take the idea and run with it. Whatever. Cool story, the day I started writing this chapter, I got a fortune cookie saying that Luck is the result of hard work. Unbelievable irony, or jutlst the universe laughing at me. Please review, it makes me happy.**

-Lucifer


	7. Chapter 7

_Are ya feelin lucky, punk?_

 _-Clint Eastwood_

 **Chapter 7-The Shot Heard Round the World.**

* * *

You know, whenever I complain that my life is like a video-game, I am just complaining, not requesting more stereotypical plot devices. It's like I am at the mercy of some immature writor, who just can't help himself.

If this were a story, a proper story, then I suppose that we have all just crossed the Godzilla Threshold. You know, where things are so bad that you just summon Cthulu as a distraction? I feel like this stories Cthulu. The Bigger Baddy. The Bigger Fish. Of course, I have been told that I am also a delusional sociopath with a tendency of violence and boarderline evil. Oh well, may as well jump headfirst into the antihero stereotype.

"BOND! STOP YOUR DELUSIONAL RAMBLINGS, AND GET OVER HERE. WE ARE LEAVING!"

Goddamnit Percy.

Evidently, we were starting out the journey fully stocked. One hundred dollars from the camp store, as well as twenty drachmas. You know, the big chunky gold coins, which just begged you to melt them down and auction them? Yeah those. Also good for bribing gods. Eh, I usually threaten instead. Its more my style.

Annabeth and Percy both got some necter and ambrosia, the mystical god food that fixes fucking everything. With mild side-effects of spontaneous combustion. You will have to excuse me if I want to stick to my magic.

Apperantly the rest of the group were breaking out their good stuff. Annabeth, with her incredibly subpar invisibility hat. Eh, my Cloak is cooler. She also is bringing a big bronze knife, which will likely see some action by the time the quest is over.

Percy was bringing a change of clothes and his magic sword from Chiron, and Grover was bringing his standard disguise, along with some magical pipe or something. I wasn't really listening.

I shrug to myself, and walk past the annoyed halfbloods, and get in the van. Which van you ask? Oh right, the van that promotes Delphi Farms. Gods be damned, are we seriously going to be saving the world in a fucking strawberry van?

"Alright, I'm getting in!" I yell to the impatient half-bloods.

We all piled in, awkwardly glaring at each other as we attempt to scout farther from each other in the confined space.

Argus starts the car, and we begin driving. Five minutes later, everyone is tense and fidgety. The demigods from ADHD, the satyr from his quaking terror of me, me, from my paranoia and PTSD, and Argus, from having to put up with all of us in the small confined space.

I start tapping my fingers against the door to the van. Five beats, then a staccato three beats. Looping. Over and over.

"Fucking stop that shit!" Percy whisper-yelled at me. Huh. I thought Annabeth would cave first.

I stop for a few minutes. Then I start again. Tap tap tap.

Now, Annabeth is mad. How do I know this? She slugs me in the shoulder. Ha, beat ya. Cruciatus overexposure does wonders for pain blocking. I still can't feel 70% of my body on really bad days.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" she yells in frustration, when I keep tapping.

I momentarily stop, to answer the question. "Lots of things love. I have a List, all up in my head, of why I am completely fucked up."

"What do you mean?" Percy asked curiously.

I smile at him. "Well PJ, it's like this. My List, is just my list of excuses of why I act the way I act. Lets start with hereditary. I was born, Harry James Potter. Heir to the Line of Potter, which has had a ridiculous amount of divine inbreeding happening, but since gods don't have DNA, I can't really blame that. What I can blame though, is my Mother doing a ritual unlocking all of that power in me, which is basically like divine radiation poisoning. Of course, she had planned it out, so that all that energy would be expended in one short burst. So I grew up without that."

"What gods were in your line?" Annabeth asked, eyes alight with burning curiousity.

"Mostly gods of luck and chance. Fortuna, Tyche, demigods of both. I have a rather powerful line from Hades who married in, and Nemisis and Astrea show up somewhere there. Hecate blessed too. But with all of that, I am not a true demi-god, I am just an extremely concentrated legacy of many many minor gods. Of course, with all that concentration, I show up as Big Three Demigod level. Ever read the Douglas Adams books?" I ask.

"Yeah" Annabeth said.

"Yeah, I actually did read that series a bit." Percy said slightly embarrassed.

"There's a reason they call me Lucky Charms. I am an extremely competent fighter, eliminating all with extreme prejudice. But I also have a passive luck boost, of ridiculous proportions. Like, if an enemy escapes to a roof, there will inevitably be a random ladder laying around somewhere, with a steaming cup of tea. But if I use my active ability, to put it in laymans terms, I am basically a walking talking Infinite Improbability Drive."

"Really?" Percy asked.

"Indeed. Wanna see?" I ask, conjuring myself a pack of standard cards.

"Sure" Percy said excitedly. I spread the deck, and he took a card. I put it back in the deck, and gave it to Annabeth to shuffle. She did, and I plucked a card out from that. It was the same card as Percy had.

"Woah, that was some card trick." Percy exclaimed.

"Not a card trick. Just one in fifty two, odds against. That's my passive ability. Vegas hates me." I said, chuckling to myself.

"But as I was saying, I grew up with verbal abuse, with a pretty shitty amount of chores. I'm a motherfucking male Cinderella. But hey, I am a male, with all the skills of a housewife. Cooking, cleaning, gardening. I hear some girls love that." I said, winking at Annabeth. She colored red, and glared at me.

I laughed a bit. "Of course, then I grew up in a school which I was exposed to lethal danger every year, like clockwork. And then I fought in a war, racked up a massive killcount as well as massive PTSD, got exposed to incredibly horrific torture on a near daily basis, and was semi-possessed for about 17 years a disembodied piece of soul from a psychotic mass murderer, who also had a shitty childhood as well as being a clinical psycopath, and sociopath, with daddy issues and a soul broken into thousands of tiny little pieces. I have to say, that considering all that, I feel relatively sane and functioning."

Everyone kinda just stares at me. Then, Argus, annoyed at the sob story feels, kicked us out of the van.

"Well fuck you too, jackass!" I yelled at the retreating van.

I swear profusely for a little bit, but then stop. My bad mood flips, because I feel an oscillating Luck signal begin to ping on our location.

"Hey guys, what are the odds of the Three Furies showing up here. I would say about 1:23 odds against." I say, grinning horribly.

"That seems disproportionately likely." Annabeth noted.

"Well, given that they appear to be searching for us in this general area, I would say the odds are a bit more likely than most." I say. I am quivering with excitement. The Furies are First Monsters, and are really actually closer to spirits or minor godesses. This will be fun.

"Shit, we need to get out of here!" Percy exclaimed, panicking. "I don't want ti run into my demonic math teacher!"

"Too late." I say, still smiling horribly.

A black shadow covers us. A stinking wind of sulfer and brimstone, evoking images of fire and death covered us. Faintly in the background, I coukd hear the screaming of the damned. Three hags landed on the ground before us, poisonous yellow eyes glaring and clawing deep gouges in the concrete.

"The Lord Hades orders your death, for daring to steal the Symbols of Power!" The middle hag hissed.

"Not if I have any say in it." I say, firmly. Somewhere in my brain, images come to me, a rich ancestral memory filled with visions of countless Potter's in the same scene, the same situation, over and over throughout history. In this moment, we all shape up, drop our problems, complaints, various issues, and we stand strong, defending innocents from the rage of gods and monsters. We are the line of fire, standing in the path of darkness. When push comes to shove, Potters stand strong.

I straighten up, like my Ancestors have done from time immemorial. My hair and Cloak begin to whip in a eldritch wind, and my eyes glow Killing Curse green. My Cloak morphs into a cape of the deepest shade of black, the Peverell Ring grows cold and shines coldly, and the Elder Wand begins to crackle with black lightning.

"Who are you to deny us!?" The Hag on the left screams.

"Who am I? Who are YOU, to challenge me! I am Harry James Potter, the last Lord of Potter, and the Guardian of Luck. And I denouce you, and your lord!" I yell.

The Furies hiss in an errie discordant harmony. Gametime.

I summon the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, and leap into battle, like the true Gryffindor that I am. I come up against the first one, and swing the Sword. It leaps aside with an unnatural speed, and I whip out my pistol. I fire twice, but even luck cannot over come unnatural speed.

I recoil, as the third flicks their flaming whip at me. I reach forward and grab it, wrapping it around my arm, and yank. The Fury loses it's balance, and trips forward. I release the whip, shaking out my arm, which now has a spiral of burned flesh. Damn, that thing hurt like the Cruciatus. Oh well. No accounting for divine torture.

The second Hag tries to stab me with a barbed knife, and I smack it away with my hand, hitting the flat edge. It reverses it's grip, and tries to strip my face into bacon. I palm my poisonous poker chips, and fling them out, each one gleaming an ominous viridian color. Caught by surprise, the Fury jerks back, but not flast enough to avoid them. They shred through her face, like bullets through paper, and she explodes in a cloud of sulfer.

The remaining Furies scream in rage. They try to rush me, and I blow them back with a wandless Banisher. While they're on the defensive, I concentrate on my Luck Powers.

"Improbability, of 56,735:1, against." I yell as a battle cry, and jack up a massive anomoly of bad luck in the sky above. And then, a massive shadow covers the monsters, and like most intelligent beings, they look up. And get pounded in the face by the entire contents of a cargo planes payload. Which just so happened to by in excess of five hundred pianos.

They fell with an incredible crash, sending splinters out like shapnel. It made almost an odd musical noise, from the chords within them. I withdrew the Elder wand, and shifted some of the debris. I saw one of the forms, and cut it in two with my Sword. It half-heartedly burst into gold dust. I then spotted a second claw. I shifted more rubble, and dragged out a half-concious Fury.

"Harry Potter" it hissed. "This travesty shall see you dead in the eyes of the gods. There is nowhere you can run, nowhere you can hide. The forces of Olympus shall ravage you until there is nought but dust."

I smile coldly. "I grow tired of this battle between gods. Look at our world today, and all the corruption can be attributed to the Gods. Tell your master when you next see him. This. Means. War. And I don't plan to lose."

I pull out the Elder Wand, and prepare to do the one action that will condemn me in the eyes of all of the gods. You see, though I have many godly ancestors, the highest ranking one is Hades, one of the Big Three, by the Peverell's. I am the Master of Death, the wielder of the Hallows, and now, I am going to declare war, by killing my Father's Lieutenant with it, while declaring my intention. And by using the killing curse, for that matter. Because when one really got down to it, some things are held sacred by the gods. And NO ONE, messes with the servants of the Gods. So killing them, while humiliating them, with the Killing Curse, by the Legacy of Hades, does not just declare war. I am goddamn shooting Franz Ferdinand.

The Elder Wand grows hot, even while the Resurrection Stone freezes. They both crackle with black lightning. With a wave and twirl of my wand, the still glaring Fury is transfigured into a adorable looking puppy. I Apparate over a couple streets, and place it on the sidewalk. I then conjure a weighted golf club.

"Suck this one bitch. FORE!"

And with that battle cry, I whacked the Fury turned puppy into oncoming traffic.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

I sent the Killing Curse, and hit the mangled barely breathing puppy in the road. It exploded in a massive cloud of gold dust. The dust began to form into a skull. Hades was watching. Excellent.

"You-you-you!" Annabeth was stuttering wide-eyed.

Percy was just looking kinda confused.

"THAT'S EXACTLY THE KIND OF THING PEOPLE GET SMITED FOR!" She finally burst out.

"Chillax Anny. I can't get smited because of the Ancient Laws. I have declared my intent to destroy the Gods in single combat, and thus, they must wait for me to come challenge them in person. No smiting for me." I explain very calmly. Annabeth isn't calmed. In fact, her face is turning red, and she appears to be hyperventilating. Grover is mimicking her.

I do kinda feel bad for them. What I just did was about as sacrilegious as kicking one of the Fates of a cliff, or pissing on the Pope. On pissing off, thats easy. Pissing on. Which is comsiderably less so.

"Anny, it's fine. We just go through the quest, and hold a ceasefire while you do your thing in the Underworld. Then afterwards, we finish the quest, and then we do our thing. Ok? Now I think our bus is here."

Shaking, Annabeth is gently guided onto the bus, and the rest of us join her.

"Don't worry. Everything's gunna be alright." I smile like a shark, coldly and dangerously. "Trust me."

* * *

Far away, Chiron sighs at the news that he is hearing. "Oh Harry. What on Earth are you thinking?"

* * *

 **AN-And our obligatory intersection with canon has been met, evaluated, and promptly bounched off of again. I am actually surprised that my story has gotten so much love. After all, it is less than 15k. Regardless, I have come through for you. I will soon be transitioning to 3k chapters, and perhaps even 4k. This one is only a little lomger than normal. Read, rate and review. I have gotten very few reviews recently, and reviews are the food of the writor. The more reviews I get, the faster I update. So review review review. And I really love the long reviews, that gives a small paragraph about the story. That is worth at least five of the generic good job reviews. And the longer it gets, the more it's worth. I always read every review, and even look at every follow and fav. So if you review multiple times, especially multiple long reviews, ima start mentioning you in the Authors of, shoutout to Naked Fury for being awesome and reviewing a semi-long review. Ive have seen you before, and I appreciate it. Anyway. Tell me what you think should happen next.**

 **-Darth Bubbles**


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